


let me count the ways

by wordy_and_dramatic



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Miscellaneous Ficlets, SuperCorp Anthology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordy_and_dramatic/pseuds/wordy_and_dramatic
Summary: A miscellaneous collection of SuperCorp ficlets with no real common theme beyond Kara/Lena.
They'll cover a range of genres; good bit of angst, some mildly amusing, some slightly sexy, few AUs, etc. 
Any trigger warnings that may apply will be added to the tags as needed, as well as the beginning notes of each chapter.





	1. you looking for something dumb to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for checking these out.
> 
> I don't promise particularly profound writing, but I hope you like them anyway.
> 
> So, without further adieu, please enjoy.
> 
> ***  
> No triggers, some mild to moderate sexual references.

*** * ***

#####  **you looking for something dumb to do?**

*** * ***

Kara has literally never been more turned on in her life.

And that _includes_ the incident last week, when she'd arrived at Lena's apartment to find Lena standing in the middle of her bedroom, arms akimbo in Kara's classic pose, and wearing an extremely tight-fitting "Sexy Supergirl" Halloween costume she'd probably bought as a joke, given the playful smile she'd been unable to wrestle off her face when the real Supergirl had walked through her door.

But if Kara's being honest - and just a little bit narcissistic - there was nothing funny about the immediate bolt of _hunger_ that had ripped right down the center of her being the moment her eyes settled on her occasional friend-with-benefits, and scarcely a second later, Kara had Lena braced against the wall devouring those oh so tempting lips and the delicious sounds she so often inspired from them, before falling to her knees at Lena's feet, her mouth hot and wet on Lena's exposed stomach, dragging blunt teeth across the woman's hip bones, mewling at the way Lena pitched into the contact, breathless and arching, her fingers grasping Kara's hair when Kara's hand slipped under that atrociously tiny skirt.

That had been a level of hot Kara hadn't known was possible, and one that made it particularly torturous to sit across from Lena at lunch everyday and pretend that _Kara_ wasn't thinking about just how good the House of El crest looked stretched to its limit across Lena's unfairly perfect chest when Lena arched her back into the first wave of - 

Look, it was a very long, very frustrating week for Kara Danvers, and she was very, _very_ close to just throwing caution to the wind and breaking it to Lena that her only two friends in National City happen to be the same person, and that (one) friend happens to have some very good ideas on how to better utilize their shared lunch hour, preferably by involving fake Supergirl costumes and Lena's desk.

And up until this exact moment - the moment happening _right now_ \- Kara had felt confident in saying sexy didn't get any sexier than Lena Luthor in a fake Supergirl costume. Possibly with the added bonus of also being perched on the edge of her desk with papers scattered haphazardly all around the floor and Kara's fingers buried inside her. But regardless, it was as good as fact that _that_ was the upper limit of quantifiable sexiness, as far as Kara was concerned. 

Kara was very wrong.

Because even all of that somehow pales in comparison to Lena fucking Luthor standing in the middle of her state-of-the-art, designer kitchen, wearing ludicrously high stilettos and a dress that probably cost more than all of Kara's monthly expenses _combined,_ her hair perfectly done up, her make-up flawless, looking to all the world like she's just returned from some classy gala.

Except for the _grease_ smudged down one side of her nose. And across her cheek, her forehead, the underside of her chin, _on the stupidly expensive dress._ And her hands more closely resemble those of a blue-collar auto-mechanic, rather than a Fortune 500 CEO, with grease streaked nearly up to her elbows as she fiddles with the scattered pieces of what seems to be some sort of combustion engine that she's dismantled across her beautifully lacquered kitchen table, all the while casually humming along to the top 40s station playing in the background as though she hasn't just sent Kara's head into orbit. 

And Kara is aware this whole scene shouldn't be as devastatingly attractive as it is. She knows it speaks to something else, something not suited for two people who've accidentally stumbled into an ill-advised affair that they're already pretending isn't as dangerous as it has the potential to be, and Kara should definitely take this as a warning to leave now, to run before they make this whole thing worse.

But all Kara can do is stand frozen at the kitchen doorway, her boots hovering half an inch off the ground, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, with the wooden door jam groaning under her unconscious grip while she watches Lena frown down at whatever part-of-a-part she's currently taking a small socket wrench to, opening it up into a million more tiny pieces across the teak table, and Kara just wants kiss her so fervently it steals every cubic inch of air from the woman's lungs.

She wants to drag Lena to the bedroom and strip her of that ruined dress, not giving a damn about the black smudges scattered across Lena's skin, and spend the whole damn night _worshiping_ Lena like she's the goddamn sun, with purposeful touches and passionate kisses that say so much more than Kara has ever been able to properly articulate into words. 

Kara should leave before she says something she can't take back.

Or, at the very least, she should navigate this moment as though everything up to this point really has been about the sex; that the costume had just been sexy, with absolutely no implication toward Lena bearing Kara's family crest for the traditional reasons. She should pretend she wants to tell Lena who she is because it will afford them midday hook-ups, and not because Lena looks physically pained when she can't kiss _Kara_ goodbye at the end of their lunch hour. And she should definitely pretend Lena is just an extremely attractive woman who can manage to look good even with grease on her face, and that it doesn't rip the air from Kara's lungs to witness something so unique to Lena, to be so drawn in to a scene that captures Lena's truest self so entirely that Kara just wants to drown in this moment and never let it go.

"I'm gonna marry you."

Lena's eyes flick up, eyebrow quirked, and bold red lips pursing around a smirk, and fuck if it's not the sexiest thing Kara's ever seen. 

*** * ***

**_fin_ **


	2. let me love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College AU
> 
> ***  
> No trigger warnings

*******

#####  **let me love you**

*******

Kara could blame inebriation, or hormones, or stress, or, hell, she could even blame Lena herself. 

For looking so _good_ all the time, for _moving_ the way she does, or for wearing _that_ color lip-stain that never fails to make Kara want to fall to her knees and beg Lena to let her taste, _just once, just once and I swear, that'll be enough._

But no, Kara knows none of this is Lena's fault. 

Not when _Kara's_ the one who went and fell so stupidly in love her best friend. That one falls on Kara. 

_Lena_ has been nothing but good and kind and genuine with Kara since the start, putting the connotation of the Luthor name aside by reaching out to some random weird girl at some random beach party, and offering that weird girl a friendship that has become immeasurably important to both of them. 

So it's entirely unfair for Lena to have to shoulder the blame when _Kara's_ the one who had to go and twist their friendship into something else, something that Lena didn't want, couldn't want, and would feel bad for not being able to want, and it wouldn't be fair of Kara to make Lena feel guilty for Kara's feelings.

Kara knows this, accepts this, and has spent her entire college career systematically choking back every want and every need, swallowing down too-honest words, and going to war with her own body when the thing inside her wants to touch, wants to taste. 

She fights day after day to ensure Lena doesn't know, doesn't suspect the truth raging just behind Kara's teeth; a truth that, for all Kara's constant effort, always feeling just one weakened moment from breaking free from it's carefully constructed restraints.

But to be perfectly honesty, just weeks from graduating, and their futures nothing more than a hazy mist in the distance, Kara is _tired._

She's tired of clipping every interaction, of whittling down every word she says and pouring over every touch to make sure it stays in line, make sure she doesn't feel too much, or react too deeply.

She's tired of the never-ending line of suitors waiting at Lena's doorstep, waiting for their turn to use her, and hurt her in new and worse ways every _fucking_ day. 

She's tired of the silent resignation that sinks deeper and deeper into Lena's eyes with every callous word and every smarmy jerk who proudly totes around the local media stations with _undeniable proof_ that Lena Luthor is just as psychotic and ruthless and _evil_ as her name would imply. 

She's tired of biting back that howling instinct to chase away every doubt that flits through those gorgeous eyes with the venerable avalanche of loving, passionate words Kara's collected over the years to properly define just how wonderful and beautiful Lena actually is. 

She's tired of hearing Lena describe herself like she's not worth loving, like she's not good, like she's not worth literally every ounce of life someone can possibly give, like Kara isn't gnashing at the bit to give Lena the whole god damn world if Lena wanted it, just to show Lena that she's worth _everything_ , worth _anything_ , that she's worth bearing the weight of the entire fucking solar system for. 

She's tired of pretending it's not a physical battle to stop herself from reaching out to Lena when Lena's drowning in the hopelessness of trying to be a _good_ Luthor. She's tired of breaking her bones against the raw, overwhelming urge that swells behind her ribcage. Urges telling her to just drag Lena into her arms and wash away every wretched layer of self-loathing that paints every inch of pale skin with her mouth, her hands, her tongue, her teeth. She's tired to stopping herself from showing Lena, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how deeply and devoutly and _passionately_ she is loved and adored. 

Kara is just so _tired of fighting._

And Kara knows, even before they set foot in the frat house that night, that she's already riding a razor's edge, already too close to becoming yet another person who simply _takes_ what she wants from Lena without considering what _Lena_ wants or needs, before inevitably leaving Lena to deal with the consequences. 

Kara _does_ know this.

So Kara should absolutely say no when Lena slides in close to her and pushes a cup of jungle juice into her hand, her smile blinding and her eyes sparkling with all of her most addictive qualities.

Kara should say no, but she doesn't. 

Which is how she ends up several drinks past drunk, several years past devoted, and perfectly primed to make some seriously stupid decisions by the time they finally leave the party.

They stumble back to Lena's off-campus bungalow, giddy and drunk, fingers laced as Lena leads Kara up the steps toward her front door, already digging into her pocket for her keys and looking like everything Kara has ever wanted.

Lena turns to smile at Kara over her shoulder, eyes twinkling and so beautiful it hurts, so familiar it feels like home, and Kara is just too damn tired to gather the energy to fight it anymore. 

She moves without thought, tugging Lena back toward her, her fingers clasping the back of Lena's neck, she swoops in to finally seize those blood-red lips, cutting off Lena's surprised murmur. 

Kara's chest instantly explodes with sensation, everything alight with the taste, the feel, the _sound_ of Lena's mouth against hers, soft and warm and so sweet Kara wants to die in this moment.

Letting go of any lingering inhibitions, Kara presses in deeper, pushing every ounce of want and need she's spent nearly five years suppressing into every brush, every nip, her fingers pushing into Lena's hair as she stumbles forward, trapping Lena against the front door as Lena's fingernails dig hard into Kara's hipbones, frozen in shock for several long beats beneath Kara.

Just long enough for Kara's drunken mind to catch on to the fact that Lena's not kissing her back, not moving at all really, and Kara's just barely tipping her lips away from that delicious mouth, the stirring of panic and awareness of what she's just done only just beginning to bubble in the base of her skull when Lena snaps out of her apparent shock, coming back to vivid life as she jolts forward, her hand flying up to curl around the back of Kara's neck, dragging Kara back in. 

"No, please," Lena begs, breathless and desperate, her lips trembling against Kara's, fingernails cutting into Kara's skin. "Please don't stop."

*******

_**fin** _


	3. you kinda look like someday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long before L Corp and Supergirl, Lena and Kara had an almost-moment. 
> 
> Edit 12/9: Fixed some minor usage typos. 
> 
> ***  
> No trigger warnings.

*** * ***

#####  _**you kinda look like someday** _

*** * ***

Kara sighs and recrosses her legs on the courthouse steps, shifting her textbook across her knees and glancing up at one of the few lingering protesters on the sidewalk below who's been falling asleep against his 'Luthor Deserves To Burn' sign for the better part of thirty minutes. 

She narrows her eyes as he sways, tipping a bit as though he's about to topple over into the street behind him, but his buddy elbows him and he snorts awake, scrubbing a weary hand over his face. 

She understands the sentiment, glancing down at her watch. It's nearing eight-thirty and the judge has yet to dismiss for the day, and with Lex Luthor's trial running well into its second month, and 12-hour court proceedings becoming the norm, she's pretty sure the protester can be forgiven for dozing. 

Though Kara really has no room to complain as she's only been hanging around the courthouse for three days now, and only to be here for Clark while Lois is upstate for her sister's graduation, from which she'll be returning tomorrow, but still, Kara's brain is basically mush only three days into this. She seriously can't wrap her head around the people who've been doing this every day for the past month and a half. 

True heroes, all of them. 

The courthouse doors open quietly behind her and she looks up, hoping it's Clark coming to tell her they're finished for the night, but instead, she finds herself looking up at none other than Lena Luthor, Lex's regally composed younger sister. 

According to Clark, Lena has dutifully attended each day of proceedings since the trial began, watching on with cool dispassion as lawyers present virtual mountains of evidence detailing every one of Lex's horrific crimes. 

Kara's heard people speculating on the possible reasons for Lena's continued presence, despite being left off the list of character witnesses, and having not yet been called as a witness for the prosecution, while the rest of the Luthors have only sat in sporadically. 

Some say Lena must naively believe her brother is actually innocent, as Mrs. Luthor has passionately vocalized to the press. Others push that Lena's just like him, and that she probably supported his amoral endeavors, and the DA should be filing charges against her as well. While still others brush it off as merely an act of personal gain, playing the part of the supportive, but removed, little sister as she sits in line to take over the company in Lex's soon-to-be-permanent absence. But Clark doesn't trust her an inch, and Kara doesn't know what to think. 

And as for the woman herself, Lena hasn't said a word on the subject, often ditching or ignoring the press, and never taking the stand in court for one side or the other. So everything up to this point has been pure speculation based on her presence alone, and given how little her striking face actually gives away in regards to her emotional state, it's really anyone's guess. 

But as Kara watches the terminally composed woman stagger from the building, her breathing erratic and her hands shaking horribly when she reaches into her pocket for a pack of cigarettes, Kara wonders if, perhaps, they're all wrong about Lena Luthor. 

The woman leans back against the courthouse wall, hands shaking so badly that it's actually a struggle for her to light her cigarette, and before Kara can give it a single thought, she's moving to the woman's side, gently prying the lighter from her hands.

"Here, let me," Kara offers gently, cupping her hand around the flame. 

Lena blows out an unsteady, smoky breath of relief, her muscles relaxing minutely and takes her light back, steadfastly avoiding Kara's eyes. 

"Thanks," she murmurs before taking another drag. 

Kara jams her hands into her pockets awkwardly and shrugs. "It's no problem. Are you, I mean, um, are you okay?"

"Fine," Lena says automatically, but the tension in her jaw and the lingering tremble in her fingers belies the truth. 

Gnawing on her lip, Kara glances around, entirely unsure how to proceed, but also unsure she's comfortable leaving the clearly _not-fine_ woman to suffer alone. So Kara just leans against the stone wall beside Lena, and, for several long minutes, the pair silently watch the protesters mill about on the sidewalk below. 

Eventually, Lena flicks her cigarette butt away and pulls another from the pack, managing to light this one all on her own. 

"So," Lena starts, blowing out a small cloud of smoke and finally turning to look at her companion. "Are you with the protesters or the press?"

"O-oh, no, neither," Kara stutters out, a little surprised the woman is speaking to her at all. "I'm just here for my cousin. For support. An-and doing homework." She gestures to her backpack and books laying on the stairs a few yards ahead of them. 

Lena quirks one sharp brow. "You're just casually doing homework outside the courthouse that's hosting one of the most influential trials of the century?"

Kara blushes for reasons that are beyond her and breathes out an awkward laugh. "Well, I tried doing it inside, but then one of the marshals escorting Dr. Freeze kinda said I look exactly like his sister and then proceeded to hit on me. Explicitly. I maybe...ran away."

A surprised laugh bursts from the refined woman beside her, full-bodied and genuine, her eyes sparkling with mirth and Kara's knocked a little breathless for a moment, utterly captivated and absently wonders if this is what Clark meant when he said the Luthors have the devil's charm. 

"Well, at least you escaped. Think of poor Dr. Freeze stuck listening to that kind of thing all night. That is truly an inhumane punishment," Lena jokes, turning to lean her shoulder against the wall, facing Kara properly. 

Kara smiles, mirroring her position. "I dunno, I just keep thinking about that guy's sister. I mean, he hits on girls 'cause they look like her; could you imagine having a brother like that?"

Lena's face pulls in distaste and she shakes her head. "I'm fairly certain I would just die. And that's coming from someone who isn't even genetically related to their family."

"Wait, you're not a real Luthor?" Kara blurts before her mind even has time to process the words spilling out of her mouth. "I-I mean, shit, no, not that you're not a real Luthor. I didn't mean that. Like, I'm sure you're a real Luthor, or, I mean, if you wanna be a real Luthor, or I-I just, I just meant, like, are you adopted, 'c-cause I am. Adopted, that is. When I was thirteen. An-and I know sometimes it feels like, like, you're not _really_ like, I dunno, sometimes people say things and, like, yeah, you don't share genetics, but that's not what family is, and, and I know that be-because I'm...adopted too." Kara trails off, wincing to herself, unable to look Lena in the eye, completely certain she's just scared the woman off. 

But when Lena doesn't immediately walk away from her or start shouting, Kara hazards a glance up at Lena's face, and finds the woman's biting back a smile, her eyes full of endearment and just a hint of teasing. 

Kara blushes all the way to her ears. "Sorry. That was...a lot. I'm sorry."

"You're fine," Lena says softly, affectionately, eyes mapping over Kara's face in a way that makes Kara's chest flutter uncontrollably. 

Lena shifts closer once again and Kara's suddenly aware of just how close they've gotten, just a few scant inches between their faces, and Kara's brain short-circuits, desperately trying to figure out how that happened and what to do with it now.

"Do you—" Kara clears her throat, eyes finding Lena's lips of their own accord, before she forces them back up to meet that hypnotizing gaze. "Do you have to go back inside? Or do you maybe want to…"

Lena's eyes are full of intent when they flash down to Kara' mouth. "Do I want to, what?"

Kara swallows and licks her lips, distantly aware she's drifting in, her fingertips brushing Lena's cheek, and she can vaguely hear a voice in her head asking her what the hell she thinks she's doing, to which she really has no good answer.

"I—"

"Miss Luthor!" 

The voice shatters the moment and they jerk apart, both flushed and reeling.

"I'll just be a moment," Lena calls back, absently flicking away her mostly unfinished cigarette, now long cold, and turns back to Kara, her arms crossed under her breasts protectively, the cold reality having returned to her eyes, though they still flash apologetic and torn. "I'm sorry. That was...I shouldn't've—"

"It's cool, I understand," Kara jumps in sincerely, wrestling as much disappointment out of her smile as she can, wanting only to give the woman some sort of peace of mind. "You have a lot going on. I get it. An-and you know, who knows, maybe we'll get another chance. Someday." Which sounds way too heavy for something that amounts to nothing more than twenty minutes and a few dozen words between literal strangers, and Kara braces for dismissal. 

But Lena surprises her again by stepping back into her, one hand braced on Kara's upper chest when she lifts up on her toes to press a sweet, lingering kiss to the corner of Kara's mouth. 

"I certainly hope so," Lena whispers and drops back down, her eyes catching Kara's for just a moment before she ducks her head and walks away, the sound of her heels clicking on the stone ground echoing in Kara's ears long after the courtroom door closes behind her. 

Kara finally lets out a long breath once people begin trickling from the building, gives herself a hard shake and goes to collect her belongings before Clark emerges. 

And she knows it's ridiculous to hope, and that the chances are astronomical, but when she straightens back up, her bag slung over her shoulder, and catches the briefest glimpse of Lena's head in the crowd, for just a moment, Kara lets herself imagine _someday._

And she smiles. 

*** * ***

**_fin_**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Maybe kudos and comment, if you're up for it. Just, like, lemme know what you liked about it or something? Maybe a detail or a line that you liked, or that stuck out to you? Heck, tell me what you hated about it, if you wanna. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks again!


End file.
